A trace of mockery flashed in Lanlost's eyes. He spoke slowly, his tone full of ridicule. "What, too embarrassed to tell me?"
The burly man frowned and said in a deep voice, "Let's find somewhere else to talk. This isn't suitable."
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone instinctively looked down at Weil Fortress below.
The defenders on the fortress walls had long noticed the confrontation between the powerful figures overhead. One by one, they craned their necks to look.
"Those... aren't they Fourth-tier experts?" a Great Warrior could not help asking in a low voice, fear evident in his eyes.
"They should be," a mage said, narrowing his eyes as he watched the figures in midair. "Most third-tier experts guard the Second Defense Line and rarely come to the Third Defense Line. If they weren't fourth-tier, they couldn't possibly appear here."
The defenders whispered among themselves, discussing it fervently, while the several figures in the sky suddenly vanished before everyone's eyes.
In the next moment, they appeared atop a mountain far from the fortress.
The mountaintop was flat, with fierce winds howling. An ancient pavilion stood in the center, its stone steps weathered but still sturdy.
The burly man swept his gaze across the group and was the first to head toward the pavilion. "Sit down and make things clear. Among us, only you and Fisher have a somewhat strained relationship. There's no need to drag this out."
Hearing this, a cold smile rose at the corner of Lanlost's lips.
He did not bother concealing his emotions as his gaze fell on the white-haired Fisher.
Fisher's face turned livid, but he did not immediately retort.
Soon, everyone took their seats.
Stone chairs condensed out of thin air within the pavilion, the work of one of the male Grand Archmages